


My Love Will Follow You Forever

by riversdamsel



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, timebaby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-04
Updated: 2012-06-21
Packaged: 2017-11-03 01:43:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/375692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riversdamsel/pseuds/riversdamsel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She can handle running from an army of Weeping Angels or battling an outraged group of Sontarans, but this is something completely different and she doesn’t know what to do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MyHeartCanDream](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyHeartCanDream/gifts).



Her bare feet pad across the cold floor as she paces back and forth, back and forth, biting at her lip anxiously. She determinedly avoids looking at the blue stick-like test as she glances at the clock that seems to be moving slower than it should, as if to spite her.  Huffing, she plops down on the edge of the tub- it _cannot_ have been only fifteen seconds since she last looked.  Her legs are bouncing restlessly as she rests her elbows on her knees, covering her face with her hands- she needs to pull herself together. 

 It really wasn't possible...was it?  She...she couldn't be- no, no _definitely_ not.  She doesn't even understand _how_ \- no, how isn’t the best word.  Of course she knows _how_ \- a small smile suddenly curls the edges of her lips.  Oh yes.  She knows _exactly_ how.  That is _if_ …but she’s not.  She _can’t_ be.

 She’s been seeing less and less of _her_ Doctor and she knows, she just _feels_ , that their time together is rapidly running out.  Her hearts clench painfully- that’s always been a thought she’s pushed to the furthest corners of her mind, as if it will never happen if she doesn’t think about it.  She’s always pretended as if they have forever together, but she knows that soon she will be at that point where she _never_ sees him again- they weren’t meant to have a happily ever after. 

Sometimes she feels as if time is laughing at her, _mocking_ her for ever believing that it’s not the boss of her.  She is time’s puppet, forced to be pulled through a back-to-front timeline.  And it _hurts_ to see _him_ get younger and younger every time they meet- looking into those old eyes that hold knowledge from every corner of the universe and seeing nothing, _nothing_ , for her. 

 His earlier self doesn’t trust her and is constantly seeking answers to questions that she will not, _cannot,_ answer.  His eyes flare and his jaw clenches, and she can tell just how frustrated with her he gets, because all he wants is to _know_.  But she would willingly give up everything she knows just to be back at the beginning again.  To her it seems as if he’s forgetting her and she knows that one day they’ll meet and for him, it’ll be the first time.

 Now, on top of everything else, _this_ is being thrown at her.  And _this_ is not something she's prepared for.  But she's not going to have to worry about it, right?  She's just fretting for no reason- everything is fine.  It has to be.

 Her eyes flit to the clock and she stands.  Reaching out with shaking hands she picks up the test, quickly shutting her eyes before she can see the result.  Her hearts are practically pounding out of her chest as she inhales deeply in a failed attempt to calm herself.

 Her eyes open slowly and lock onto the test.  She can't seem to look away as her grip tightens to the point that her knuckles are white and she crumples to the floor, suddenly feeling numb to everything around her.  She's not aware of time passing or the phone ringing.  Breathing suddenly isn't important as her world feels as if it's crashing around her.  Her arm wraps around her middle as she closes her eyes tightly- as if she can make everything disappear.

When she opens her eyes, her vision is blurred with tears that roll down her cheeks.  Her sobs echo off the walls and her fingers curl against the cold floor.  In a sudden burst of unreasonable anger, she throws the test against the door and hears it clatter to the floor as she leans against the wall.  She’s going to be a mother.

_A mother_.

Her eyes flutter shut as she places her hand gently over her flat stomach.  She can handle running from an army of Weeping Angels or battling an outraged group of Sontarans, but _this_ is something completely different and she just doesn’t _know_ what to do.

A small smile flits across her face as she entertains the thought of what he or she might look like- brown curls perhaps?  And his eyes, yes, definitely _his_ eyes.

Her smile fades again- how was she supposed to wake every morning to a small face peeking at her over the mattress and dragging her out of bed for breakfast, and not be reminded of her husband, _her_ Doctor?

Could she even bring herself to tell him?  Tell him that in nine months time he’ll have a son or daughter who he’ll only get to see when _time_ allows it?  And then what happens when they reach full circle and it’s all over?  Her child will be left wondering why daddy never comes around and that isn’t something she thinks she can handle.

The phone rings and interrupts her thoughts as she vaguely remembers it having rung earlier.  She pushes herself from the floor and exits the bathroom, her hands fisting the hem of her shirt in an attempt to stop shaking.  The edges of her lips curve into a small smile as she looks at the number before answering it.  Sweeping a curl behind her ear, she raises the phone, “Hello, John.”

XxX

John- former archaeology student.  She remembers the first day he set foot in her lecture hall- he had practically bounced down to the front row and plopped down in a seat, his brown hair flopping in accordance with his movements.  His enthusiasm to learn was contagious and he never failed to amaze her with how quickly he could pick up the lesson.  Over eight years she watched him grow, helping him whenever she could and becoming almost… _protective_ of him, and when he had walked across the stage to receive his graduate degree, she couldn’t help but swell with pride.

Now it was a few years later and she couldn’t ask for a better friend, though he did have a knack for finding trouble, and in that way, he kind of reminded her of herself when she was younger.  She’s had to pull him out of sticky situations that, more often than not, involve civilizations that were prepared to skin him for setting up an archaeological dig on sacred ground.  She would berate him for it later because _he should know better_ , and he would always whip out some excuse to pass for reason.  She would do nothing but roll her eyes at him and in a week he’d be in trouble all over again. 

She often feels that it’s her job to watch over him, but at the same time, he watches out for her.  He is her confidant- the person she turns to when things are going wrong, and he is always, _always_ , there.

Now he sits across from her at her kitchen table, a cup of tea resting between his hands and mirroring hers, having insisted on coming over after noting the very _not_ okay tone of her voice over the phone.  She’s never elaborated on the complicated mess that she calls a relationship between her and the Doctor, and he’s never asked.  Somehow she feels as if he _knows_ , as if he _understands_ , and if she’s being perfectly honest with herself, that scares her.  So as she confides with him that she just doesn’t know what to do, upset with herself for letting her emotions get the best of her as tears temporarily obscure her vision, he regards her with that same calm understanding.

John reaches over and gently takes one of her hands in his.  When she looks up and meets his warm green eyes, he smiles softly, “I think you should tell him.”

Damn him.  Of course he’s right, she’s just not ready- but will she ever be?  She takes a deep breath and returns his smile before nodding, suddenly feeling relieved.  She’ll tell him, and together they’ll figure it out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading.
> 
> Feedback is always welcome :)


	2. Chapter 2

She rolls over to see the clock and groans- 2:37 am.  Last time she looked it had been 2:29, and that had to have been _at least_ an hour ago.  Why is it that time passes slower when you can’t sleep?  Rolling back over to face the empty side of the bed she sighs, hating how big and _empty_ it feels when he’s not laying beside her.  If she closes her eyes she can pretend he’s there, she can pretend that it’s early morning and the sun is streaming through the window and when she opens her eyes she’ll see his warm hazel eyes and soft smile as he tugs lightly on one of her curls.

But it’s not early morning and he’s _not_ there- she is alone.  Well, almost.  She runs her hands over the small bump that’s formed over the past four months before clenching her fingers around the fabric of her shirt…well, _his_ shirt- the one with the pale red stripes she loves so much.  A fond smile plays across her lips as she remembers sprinting through the TARDIS corridors with him chasing and telling her that she just _couldn’t steal his shirt_.  When he finally caught up to her he trapped her against the wall and kissed her until she was breathless.  The shirt was soon forgotten and left as a pile of cotton on the floor, though she had made sure to get it before leaving the next day.

She’s wondering if he ever noticed that she took it when suddenly the wind picks up and whips against her window as the night air fills with a familiar whirring sound that she recognizes as _home_.  Throwing off the covers, she scrambles out of bed, ignoring the initial chill the wraps around her legs.  She smiles when she reaches the window and sees the blue police box appear.  _Finally_.

Her bare feet pad swiftly across the hard wood of her floor as she rushes down the stairs and to the door.  He’s standing on her porch with his hand raised, prepared to knock, when she swings open the door.

His eyes crinkle in a way that tells her he’s _her_ Doctor as he beams at her, “Hi honey, I’m home.”  His hand disappears into the inside pocket of his tweed jacket as he digs for his psychic paper, “Got your message-”  She cuts him off by pulling him in by the lapels of his jacket and kissing him with unrestrained passion, as if she’s afraid when she lets him go he’ll disappear.

When they break for breath he rests his forehead against hers and runs his finger over the first few buttons of the shirt she’s wearing, “Figured you took it.”  She laughs lightly, suddenly relieved- the Old Girl had brought her the exact him she needed.  The same him she saw four months ago, one who’s just as far in their timeline as she is.  Her Doctor.

Her fingers curl around the tweed fabric of his jacket as she wraps her arms around him, burying her face by his neck and placing a soft kiss there.  “Missed you,” she whispers.  He chuckles lightly, “It’s only been a few days, dear.”

She pauses, “For you.”

The Doctor pulls back, brow scrunched together, “How long for you?”

“Four months.”  He frowns and presses a soft kiss to her temple in apology, “Your message said you needed to tell me something,” he pulls back again and looks at her expectantly.

River worries her bottom lip as she fiddles with his bow tie before smoothing her hands down his chest, suddenly afraid to tell him.  His finger slips under her chin and he tilts her face upward so she’s forced to look at him.  “Whatever it is, you can tell me,” he says, his eyes searching her face as if he can find the answer himself.

She takes a moment to breathe in deeply, to calm herself, before answering, “I’m pregnant.”

The seconds that follow are completely silent as he stares at her with a blank expression.  “Sweetie,” River starts, “Say something.”  He giggles suddenly, in that high-pitched childish way she loves so much.  “Pregnant?” he asks as if trying to wrap his head around the idea.  When she nods he envelops her in his arms and kisses her, smile still on his lips.

His joy is contagious and when he pulls back she finds that she can’t help but smile back.  “River,” he breathes out, “a _baby_.”  The Doctor smoothes his hands over the small baby bump that’s so well concealed by the loose shirt she wears, unable to keep the fascination off of his face.

Kneeling, he runs his hands down the fabric of her shirt, slipping them under the hem when he reaches skin.  He lightly runs the pads of his fingertips up her thighs and over the bare skin of her hips, bunching the shirt up to expose her stomach.  His fingers trail over the slight swell of her belly before brushing his lips over her cool skin and pressing soft kisses there.

Her fingers find their way into his hair and she smiles softly as he places one more kiss to her hip before standing.  His eyes are suddenly dark as he takes each of her hands in his, softly kissing each pulse point at her wrist and sending warm tingles through her as he raises her arms.  Fisting the hem of her shirt in his hands, he pulls it up and discards it to the floor.  His fingers splay across her bare back as he pulls her flush against him and kisses her.  She tangles her fingers in his hair and smiles against his lips as he lifts her and carries her upstairs- somehow that shirt always manages to end up on the floor.

XxX

It’s almost noon when she wakes, her eyes blinking open sleepily.  A smile tugs at the edges of her lips when she sees the Doctor resting his head on her chest as he whispers softly to the baby growing in her belly and draws lazy circles across the tops of her thighs.

“I doubt he can hear you, sweetie.”

He looks up at her and smiles, moving to kiss her good morning.  “He?” he asks and she nods, running her fingers through his hair in an attempt to smooth the strands that stick out rebelliously, “I’m almost positive.  Mother’s intuition.”

“Well I’ll have you know, River, _he_ really _can_ hear me.”  She rolls her eyes affectionately, “Whatever you say, honey.” 

He draws the Gallifreyan symbols for growth, intellect and love across her stomach, seemingly lost in thought before trailing his fingers along her side and pulling her close to him.  Burying his face into her curls he smiles, “A _son_ , River.”  Turning slightly, she kisses him softly, “I know, my love, I know.”

Tugging lightly at one of her curls he looks at her seriously, “I want you to come with me.”

She brushes her thumb lightly along his jaw, avoiding his gaze, “You know I can’t.  We’re not meant-”  He cuts her off, pressing his forehead to hers, “No.  I don’t _care_ anymore, River.  We deserve this,” he laces his fingers through hers, “If only for a little while.”

River smiles slightly and nods, deciding to ignore the rules time has set for them- if only for a little while.

XxX

“I hate you for this,” River says, reaching her hands out and wiggling her fingers.  The Doctor chuckles, taking her hands in his and pulling her up from the jump seat of the console room, “No you don’t.”

“I do.  My back hurts, I look like a balloon, and I can’t see my feet.  And it’s entirely your fault.”  She frowns accusingly at him and his eyebrows shoot up as he tries to hide a smile, “My fault?  I’m fairly sure it took both of us to make a baby, dear.” 

“I still blame you,” she mumbles, smoothing her hands over her belly that feels as if it’s gotten ten times bigger in the past five months.

Suddenly River grabs his hand and places it on her stomach. He beams as he feels a soft kick, always amazed at the _life_ growing inside of her.  Noticing her smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes, he wraps his arms around her and pulls her as close as he can get her, “I can tell you’re worrying- you’ve got your worry-face on.  Stop it,” he says, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of her head.

Her fingers clench lightly at his shirt, “I can’t help it.  What if-”  He immediately interrupts, “No.  No what-if’s, River.  Everything is going to be fine and _you_ ,” he taps her nose affectionately, earning a small smile as she wrinkles her nose at his touch, “are going to be a _brilliant_ mother.  Our son or daughter is going to grow up and be absolutely _amazing_.”

She huffs indignantly, “I told you- we’re having a boy.”  The Doctor raises his eyebrows skeptically, “So you keep telling me.”  She opens her mouth to retort, but all that comes out is a sharp gasp as she doubles over in pain.  Grabbing his hand in a finger-crushing grip, she wraps her other arm around her middle before gasping out, “It’s time.”

XxX

Hours later she’s lying in a bed at the Sisters of the Infinite Schism, fighting off the exhaustion that’s threatening to overtake her.  The door opens and she suddenly forgets all about sleep as the Doctor walks in, murmuring quietly to the baby wrapped in blue cloth.  When he looks at her she feels her hearts stutter in her chest- his face is the perfect mixture of joy and pride, and she can’t ever remember his grin being so bright.

Her hearts are pounding as he sits beside her and hands her their baby.  Her smile matches his as she looks down at him and thinks that she has _never_ seen anything more wonderful.  He gazes up at her with wide, curious green eyes, and she can’t help but laugh lightly at the small tuft of brown hair on his head.  He is _perfect_.

She nudges the Doctor with her elbow and looks at him, smiling smugly, “Told you we were having a boy.”  He chuckles softly, “I suppose you did,” he pauses, “What are we going to name him?”

“John,” her answer is immediate, not bothering to give it second thought because it just feels _right_.

He wings up an eyebrow, “John?” he asks, “Are you sure?”  She nods, “It’s simple…but it’s perfect,” leaning down to place a soft kiss to his forehead.  

Tears blur her vision as she takes his tiny hand in hers, “He’s _ours_ ,” she breathes out, as if unable to believe it.  The Doctor smiles and presses a kiss to her temple, “And that’s the most perfect thing about him.”

XxX

“Forty-eight,” River’s voice rings out.  John runs as fast as his almost-three-year-old legs can take him, the soles of his shoes plopping noisily on the glass floor as he runs up the stairs.  “Forty-nine,” the Doctor calls out.  John’s small fingers grip at the light brown leather of the jump seat as he clambers up and plops down.  “Fifty!” the both exclaim together.  He smacks his hands over his eyes, going with the logic that if he can’t see them, they can’t see him.

Hide and seek.  Parents against child.  How unfair.

The Doctor walks out from underneath the console, followed by River, and immediately spots him.  He nudges River, grinning, and gestures towards John.  She laughs silently, shaking her head.  They pretend to search for him for a good five minutes before River leans against the console with a sigh, “I have absolutely _no idea_ where he could be.  Definitely _not_ around here anywhere.”

“Oh in that case,” the Doctor starts, smiling mischievously, “I can do this,” he says, leaning in and kissing her, hands on her waist.

John peeks out from behind his hands, eyes widening, “No!  I’m right here!” he insists, wanting none of that gross, romance-y business while he’s around.  River laughs as the Doctor jumps back, feigning surprise, “You were right there the entire time?!  Sneaky.”  John nods, quite proud of himself before remembering that he should be running. 

He scrambles off the seat right before the Doctor can grab him and flies down the stairs, his parents following quickly behind.  He makes it halfway down a corridor before tripping over an untied shoelace, and River catches him in her arms right before he hits the ground.  She rests him on her hip, frowning disapprovingly, “Why are you shoes untied _again_?” she asks.

He plays with one of her curls, avoiding her gaze, “Daddy says they don’t _like_ to be tied.”

She shoots the Doctor a glare, “Well that’s because _daddy_ is a trouble maker.”

The Doctor puts a hand to his chest in mock hurt, “I am _not_ a trouble maker.”  River rolls her eyes, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she fails at any attempt of being cross with him.

There are days when they travel the universe, having adventures with minimal danger, or days when they just go out for a picnic on a strange planet…though somehow, danger never fails at finding them then, too.  But then there are days like this, days they never leave the TARDIS and just spend time _together_.  As a family.

And those are his favorite days.

XxX

It’s not a week later before he’s reminded that this isn’t meant to last forever, no matter how badly he wants it to.

River appears in the console room with the zapping sound of her vortex manipulator and is immediately pulled into a hug by a rather frenzied looking Doctor.  “I didn’t know where you’d gone or when you’d be back,” he says hurriedly, pressing his face into her curls as she laughs softly.  “I left a note, sweetie,” she says, plucky a sticky note from the TARDIS console and handing it to him.

_Gone to see someone about an expedition.  Be back soon.  X._

“Oh,” he whispers quietly before looking at her, “What kind…what kind of expedition?”  He’s afraid to ask because he _knows_ what’s coming, he’s just not ready for yet.  He wants to hold onto her forever.

She sighs, “Some group called the Felman Lux Corporation wants me to lead a team into the Library.  It’s an _entire planet_ with nothing but _books_.”  He forces a smile as she continues, “But it’s been locked down for over a hundred years, and all 4,022 people who were visiting that day vanished.  It’s taken _three_ generations to decode the seals to finally get back in.  They make it sound as if it was the most difficult task in the world to complete, but I’m betting none of them knew what they were doing.  _You_ could have had them down in three _minutes_ , yet alone generations.”  He smiles genuinely this time, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close to him, “So much confidence in me.”

“I would have had them down in _two_ ,” she adds and he gasps, “Cheeky.”  River smiles, kissing him swiftly, “You love me, though.”  His grip on her tightens as he rests his forehead against hers, “I do.”

That night, after John is put in bed, he picks out a long, shimmering green dress and hands it to her.  When she looks at him questioningly he adds, “Go get dressed.  I think it’s time I took you to the Singing Towers.”  Her eyes light up, but he can only manage a small smile in return.

Hours later, they stumble back into the TARDIS, and as soon as the door closes he presses River against it with a small growl, kissing her with fevered passion.  Her hands make quick work of his white bow tie and his jacket is on the floor within seconds.  He’s pressing open mouthed kisses along her throat and is reaching for the zipper of her dress when they hear a loud sniffle, the tell-tale sign that someone’s had a bad dream.

The Doctor rests his forehead on her shoulder before whispering, “It’s your turn.”  She chuckles softly, “I expect you to be in bed when I get back,” then lowering her voice, “No clothes.”  With one more kiss and a suggestive smirk she slips from between him and the door, leaving him standing there, smiling after her.

River picks up a teary-eyed John who wraps his tiny arms tightly around her neck as she carries him back to his room.  She tucks him back in and sits on the bed beside him before asking, “So what was it about this time, love?” running her fingers soothingly through his floppy brown hair that is so much like his father’s.

“You left,” he says, his voice small, “and never came back.”  She stills, staring at him for a second before pulling him back into her arms.  “Oh honey,” she breathes, “I will _always_ come back.”

“Promise?” he asks as he settles back down.  A small smile crosses her face, “Promise.”  She bends down to press a kiss to his forehead before adding, “And even while I’m gone, I’ll always be with you right here and here,” poking each side of his chest where his hearts should be and earning a small giggle.

“I love you, mummy,” he whispers as she stands to leave.  She turns, hand on the light switch, “I love you, too, dear.”  Clicking off the light, she closes the door and goes to find her husband, having a small hope that maybe this will last forever. 

She knows it won’t, but she can wish.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading.
> 
> Sorry for any mistakes, posted this without previewing. Promise I'll fix any mistakes when I get back later today :)
> 
> Also, thank you for all the lovely comments- you have no idea how much they made my day.


	3. Chapter 3

John sits behind the professor’s desk, idly gliding his fingers over the worn wood and staring out at the empty mahogany benches that curve around the room and face the stage.  A small smile ghosts across his lips as he imagines the benches filled with students and the air buzzing with excitement to hear the day’s lecture.  The room would fall silent as soon as she started talking, each student hanging on her every word because when _she_ taught, it could only be described as magic.  Her words would wrap around each student and pull them in, hypnotizing them with her voice as she turns a lecture into something so much more.

John sighs heavily because today the lecture hall has a very different feel to it.  The air hangs heavy as if the room itself is mourning the loss of the professor who will never again sweep through its large entrance doors and bring it to life with only her presence.

 

A plate outside the doors reads:

Lecture Hall 36

Professor River Song

Archaeology

And underneath it is a note:

_Class cancelled for the week. x_

He can’t help but wonder how many students have read that note and shrugged it off as Professor Song just off on one of her expeditions, none of them knowing that she’ll never return.

Today is the day she dies and tomorrow morning the news will spread of her death, the plate outside the lecture hall will be changed, all of her possessions will be removed and nothing, _nothing_ will be left except for memories that will someday fade away.

Clenching his teeth together, John closes his eyes in an attempt to think of something, _anything_ , else, but is only greeted with images of her.  Not at as his professor, or advisor, or friend, but as his _mother_.  The woman who always chased away his nightmares, never let him have fish fingers and custard before bed, taught him about the blue stabilizers when his father wasn’t looking, and was always, _always,_ there when he fell.

He had her as his mother for far too short of a time to make proper memories, so they come few and far between, mostly fuzzy, but better than nothing.  And really, it’s the small things he remembers most- how she would always walk barefoot in the TARDIS, sing unnecessarily loud in the shower, and always put her hair up when she was cross.  However, the day she left sticks in his mind as if happened just yesterday.

XxX

“The shoe laces are _not_ going to be cross with you if you tie them, dear,” River says, shooting the Doctor a glare as she ties John’s shoes for the third time that day.

“But daddy _said_ ,” John starts before River stands and cuts him off, “Well _daddy_ ,” she pokes the Doctor in the chest rather forcefully, “is going to be in a _heap_ of trouble if I come back to untied shoe laces.”

His eyes widen, “Will daddy get a time out?” he whispers, as if that’s the most terrible thing that could ever happen.

A smile tugs at her lips as she places her hands on her hips, her eyes still narrowed at the Doctor, “Yes.  A very long time out.”

“Is that a promise?” the Doctor asks, eyebrows raised and eyes lit with amusement.  River rolls her eyes, but any attempt at being cross with him is soon gone as he pulls her into his embrace.  The Doctor buries his face in her curls and takes the moment to drop his forced smile and tightens his hold on her, knowing that when he lets her go, she’ll be gone forever.

“Send me a message if there’s any trouble, okay?” he whispers.  River pulls away, rolling her eyes again, “Sweetie, I’ll be _fine_.”

When River turns back to John, he’s watching her with the same lost puppy expression he always adopts before she leaves, as if he just doesn’t know what he’s going to do with himself while she’s gone. 

Repressing a smile, she kneels in front of him, “You have something right there,” she says, pointing to his chest.  John looks down but as soon as he does, she pops him playfully on the nose.  “Gotcha,” she says softly, a fond smile playing across her lips.   He wrinkles his nose, smiling brightly before flinging his arms around her neck and hugging her as tight as he possibly can.

Wrapping her arms around his small frame, she whispers, “I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Promise?” he asks, his voice small.

River pulls back and presses a kiss to his forehead, “Promise.”

“Now,” she says, standing up and facing the Doctor, “Can you _please_ stay out of trouble while I’m gone?  For once?”

“River, I am _not_ always getting in trouble.”

Her eyebrows rise, “Sweetie, trouble follows you wherever you go.”  She pauses, “Thinking about it, you should stay right here until I get back, so then I _know_ you’re not in any trouble.”

Before he has the chance to protest, River kisses him quickly but finds his arms locked tightly around her when she tries to pull away.  When he looks at her, his eyes are intense and _oh so old_ and it takes her breath away.  But there’s something else there, a deep sadness that he’s been trying _so_ hard to hide from her and she just doesn’t understand _why_.

The Doctor brushes the back of his finger along her jaw before capturing her chin between his thumb and forefinger.  He kisses her then, a deep, slow kiss that makes her want to all but melt into him, her fingers curling around the pale blue cotton of his shirt.  She faintly hears John’s noise of disapproval and she knows if she were to look at him right now, he’d be hiding behind his hands.

River breaks the kiss with a smile that quickly fades when she sees tears in the Doctor’s eyes.

“I love you, River,” he whispers.

“I love you, too,” she says, her brow knitted together in concern as she brushes her thumb lightly over his cheekbone, wiping away a tear.  Her hearts feel as if they’ve been knotted together and she wants nothing more than to ask what’s wrong, to comfort him, but the look in his eyes tells her not to.

“Me, too?” John pipes up, tugging lightly on the leg of her trousers.  River smiles suddenly, picking him up and pressing a kiss to his temple, “Yes, I love you, too.  Always and forever.”

Handing John to the Doctor, she smiles fondly at them, running her fingers lightly through John’s hair with one hand as if trying to tame it.  “My boys,” she says softly, straightening the Doctor’s bow tie.  Then she’s rattling off everything for them _not_ to do, reminding them to stay safe even if it _is_ boring, giving one more ‘I love you,’ and then she’s gone, the TARDIS door shutting behind her.

Forever.

XxX

John slides his finger down the side of the cake, watching the Doctor with wide eyes to make sure he is not turning around.  Licking the icing from his finger he hums happily, distracted by its yummy goodness and no longer paying the Doctor any attention.  When he feels he’s being watched, he slowly lifts his eyes to find the Doctor looking at him with eyebrows raised and arms crossed.

“And I suppose you _didn’t_ just steal some icing form your cake?”

John pauses before shaking his head furiously, adopting his most innocent expression.

“Right,” the Doctor says, his tone giving away that he obviously does _not_ believe him, “How was it, then?”

John grins hopefully, “I’d have to taste it again to _really_ be able to tell.”

“I have an even better idea,” the Doctor states, plopping a large, deliberately ridiculous party hat on John’s head, “How about we actually eat it, yeah?”

John nods enthusiastically, the party hat sliding down over his ears and half covering his eyes.  The Doctor pulls out six candles and hands three to John.  Together they strategically place the candles on the cake, their expressions identical as they concentrate on placing them in just the right spot.

As he carefully lights the candles, the Doctor smiles sadly, “I made your mother a birthday cake once- brought it to her just after a class.  She _insisted_ that _she_ light the candles because _I_ would somehow burn down the entire university.”  He chuckles fondly, watching the small flames flicker on top of the candles with a distant look in his eyes.

Shaking himself, the Doctor smiles brightly at John before taking a very large intake of breath and beginning his very long, very ridiculous, and _very loud_ rendition of the happy birthday song.  John giggles, but once the singing stops, he focuses on the six candles with the upmost concentration before squeezing his eyes shut, making a wish, and blowing them out.

When he opens his eyes, his hearts drop.

He had _wished_ , hoping that maybe when he opened his eyes, his mother would be there, her fingers intertwined with his father’s and smiling brightly, commenting on how he’s growing up way too fast for her liking or asking what in the name of _sanity_ was on his head.

But she _wasn’t_ there, even though she had _promised_ him that she would _always_ come back.

“Do you remember what she told you?” the Doctor asks softly, pulling John from his thoughts.

When John only looks at him curiously, he continues, reaching over and placing his hand on the left side of John’s chest, over his heart, “She is with you here,” he moves his hand to the right side, “and here.  _Always_.”

XxX

After his mother left, the library was a room his father made him _promise_ to _never_ go in.  Of course, being the curious child he was, he just couldn’t resist trying, but unfortunately the TARDIS was on his father’s side and the moment he caught sight of the door, it disappeared, relocating to a different area.  His father would spend at least an hour every day inside the library and when confronted about _why,_ he was always keen to change the subject. 

Now, fifteen years later, it isn’t uncommon for him to spend _days_ holed up in the library, leaving John frustrated and constantly wondering what exactly he’s doing. 

Today, as John walks down the silent corridors of the TARDIS, he feels _drawn_ to the library door and is surprised when it doesn’t disappear on sight.  John’s fingers hover uncertainly over the door handle, but when the TARDIS gives an encouraging hum, he pushes on it and enters the room.

It’s not the papers strewn all over the floor and desks, or the strings stretching the length of the room that hold _hundreds_ of different papers that surprises him- it’s the room itself.  _This_ library is _not_ the library he remembers from years ago.  _This_ library has walls that double as shelves and curves to make a circle that forms the room, the books reaching all the way to the domed ceiling from which a rather large moon can be seen and filters in an orange sunset-like glow, perfectly mimicking a room from _the_ Library.

Ducking under the papers that hang from the strings, John makes his way to the opposite side of the room where his father is hovering over a desk, scribbling furiously across a piece of paper.

“Figured she’d let you in sooner or later,” the Doctor comments absently without looking up, continuing to scrawl across the paper.

John leans over the desk, his eyes skimming the paper before furrowing his brow in confusion, “What are you doing?”

Finishing the sentence with a flourish of his pen, the Doctor spins on the heels of his feet and walks through the room, scanning the hung paper and answering with a vague, “Working.”  Finding the piece he’s looking for, he snatches it down and tosses it carelessly over his shoulder, replacing it with the paper in his hand.

“But why _here_?”

The Doctor’s shoulders visibly droop as his expression changes from one of concentration to sadness, “Because _here_ , if I imagine hard enough, I can _feel_ her.  Like she’s _with_ me.”

John pauses before speaking quietly, “She’s always with you.  With _us_.  Remember?”

The Doctor smiles sadly before nodding and looking back at the papers.  After a moment of silence, lost in thought, he says, “I never told you the rest of the story.”

When John frowns, not understanding, he takes a steadying breath and continues, “Her sonic screwdriver had a neural relay.  She died, but her _conscience_ was still alive, still holding on.  So I uploaded her conscience to the data core of the Library.  I saved her,” his voice is heavy with sadness and John doesn’t understand- he should be _happy_.  He could _save_ her- really, _properly_ , save her.

As if reading his mind, the Doctor speaks again, running his finger absently across the paper in front of him, “If I was meant to save her, I would have found a way by now.  And now she’s _stuck_ there.  In a hell _I_ placed her in.”  His voice is bitter and heavy with defeat that is just so _unlike_ him.

“Maybe,” John starts softly, “Maybe you should let her go.  Let her…move on.”

When the Doctor looks at John, the pain is clearly written across his face, “I can’t,” and when he turns around, John almost misses the last few words, “I’m too selfish.”

XxX

John paces the corridor just outside the console room, wringing his hands together and trying to mentally build up his courage.  After another few minutes he straightens, sets his jaw in determination, and steps into the console room.

Ducking under the console, he finds his father sitting on the swing, sleeves rolled up and goggles on as he messes with wires and settings that probably do _not_ actually need fixing.

“Hey,” John says, announcing his presence.

“Hey,” the Doctor replies absentmindedly, still focused on the wires in his hands.

John shuffles his feet hesitantly, “I wanted to talk to you about something…”

The Doctor gives the wires a twist, earning a shower of sparks and a reproachful groan from the TARDIS before sliding up his goggles and looking at John expectantly.

He immediately blurts out, “I want to study archaeology.”

If he had blinked, he would’ve missed the sadness that flickers across his father’s face for just a split second before he wrinkles his nose in distaste, “Archaeology?  Rubbish subject.”

Looking away, John disregards his comment and continues, “I want to study at the Luna University.”

Out of the corner of his eye, John notices his father visibly tense and time seems to slow as he waits with bated breath for a response.

“John, you know you can’t.”

The Doctor’s voice is quiet, but stern, as if to end the conversation, but John has no plans on giving up easily.

“She would never know,” John insists before softening his voice, “I just…I can’t remember her anymore.  I have pictures and all those stories you tell me, but I can’t _remember_.”  He pauses before quietly stating, “I just want to see her again…”

“Could you really do that?” the Doctor asks softly.  “Could you really walk into class everyday and have her look right at you, right _through_ you, because she doesn’t know _who_ you are?”

Standing a little straighter, John answers with determination, “Yes.”

The Doctor regards him in silence for a moment before pulling his goggles back down and reaching for the wires, “Well okay, then.”

XxX

On his first day of class he is early, all but bursting through the large entrance doors, practically bouncing down the sloped aisle and spinning in a circle on the heels of his feet to fully take in the lecture hall before plopping in a seat behind one of the curved benches on the first row.

The moment she walks out on the stage, her heels lightly clicking against the floor, papers in her hands and paying him no attention whatsoever, he feels as if he can no longer breathe and a pain he wasn’t expecting washes over him as if someone has their fists clenched around his hearts and is forcing the life from him.

His eyes follow her as she walks to her desk and sets her papers down before rummaging through a drawer and pulling out a pen.  She’s even more beautiful than he remembers and he can’t help but smile as she leans over to write on one of the papers and he sees a long, thin chain necklace hanging from her neck.  At the end of the necklace dangles a gold band and engraved on the inside of it is the Gallifreyan symbol for eternal love.  Given to her on their second wedding, it is promise from his father that means his love for her exceeds past the limitations time has given them.

John knows the only time that necklace is off her neck is either when she’s with _her_ Doctor and is wearing it proudly on her finger, or when she’s with an earlier Doctor and must put it away to avoid spoilers and unwanted questions.

When she looks up, surprise flickers across her face at the sight of him before she smiles slightly, “Lecture doesn’t start for another ten minutes, dear.”

His voice is stuck in his throat, but he’s saved from trying to force out a reply by two students running into the room, out of breath, asking how late they are and if they’ve missed the lecture.

River regards them with a repressed smile and an arched eyebrow, “Ten minutes _early_ , actually.”

One of the students smacks the other over the head with his book, “I _told_ you the clock was _wrong_.”

“Oi!” exclaims the other, rubbing at the back of his head and glaring at his friend, “Don’t get your knickers in a wad, mate.  At least we’re not _late_.”

As they find a seat and continue to bicker, River chuckles softly and turns her attention back to her paper.

Tuning out everything else, John replays how she looked at him over and over in his head, suddenly thinking this was a very bad, very _not_ good idea.  Of course his father had been right- she had looked _right through_ him.  There hadn’t been any recognition, love, motherly affection or _anything_.  Now he understands that no amount of mental preparation would’ve helped him prepare for the way she looks at him but doesn’t _see_.  He wants nothing more than to tell her, to make her understand _who_ he is- but he can’t.

As the rest of the students file in and the class begins, he pushes those thoughts aside, deciding to be grateful that at least he gets to _see_ her- it’s better than nothing.

John finds he has a genuine love for archaeology and quickly becomes her best student, never hesitating to answer questions or challenge theories.  She’ll have the class accompany her on digs and he never misses the fond smile she watches him with as he throws himself into work, a smile that never fails to make his hearts constrict painfully because it’s the same smile she used to always give him.

Over the course of the next eight years, she teaches him everything she knows, helps him in every way she can, even scolds him when he needs it, and John can’t help but think that she _did_ get to raise him after all- just in a different way.

After he graduates, he becomes her partner in almost every dig she attends, and with the student-teacher barrier lifted, he has the opportunity to become her _friend_ , and he takes it, knowing that all too soon she’ll leave his life once again.

XxX

Their boots kick up dirt as they all but fly across the ground, the sun high in the sky and beating mercilessly down on them.  River glances over at John as she runs, his eyes focused on their goal, and she smiles mischievously before shoving him forcefully and sending him to the ground.

“ _River!”_ he sputters out, shock lining his voice and she laughs, not bothering to look back because she knows he’s already back up and right behind her.

She shrieks as she feels his hand grab the back of her shirt, his fingers clenching tightly around the material, and the next thing she knows it’s _her_ turn to be on the ground.  John laughs and she’s back up in no time at all, grinning and sprinting after him.  She shoves him from behind and he stumbles, giving her just the time she needs to fly past him and reach their destination first, placing her hand firmly on the rocky mountain that towers above them.

“I won,” she gloats proudly as John touches the mountain right after she does.  He glares good naturedly at her and catches his breath before, “Yes, well, that’s because you _cheated_.”

River puts a hand to her chest in mock hurt, “I did _not_.  You never said anything about _rules_ , dear.”

John huffs, repressing a smile before looking up at the mountain, “Really think it’s in there?”

“Ruins of a civilization that used to reside in the heart of the mountain?  Only one way to find out,” she replies, smiling at him with excitement dancing in her eyes.

By the time they skirt the entire base of the mountain, looking for the best place to start, the rest of the team has caught up to them and they can begin.  Standing a safe distance away with the team, John watches River as she pulls out an explosive from her pack and heads back to the mountain. 

“Be _careful_ ,” he calls after her and he can practically _hear_ her roll her eyes before she calls back, “ _Careful?_  You sound like my husband,” and throws him a cheeky grin over her shoulder.

Once the dust settles, the teams enters the cave-like hole the explosion made in the side of the mountain.  After deeming it safe to set off another, a different member of the team pulls out an explosive just as a low rumbling comes from the mountain, stopping him in his tracks.  Before anyone has time to react, large bits of rock begin raining from the ceiling of the cave and everyone immediately drops to the ground, placing their hands over their heads as rock crashes down. 

Once it stops, River stands and is about to make sure everyone is okay when she hears a high-pitched beeping.  She scans the debris-covered ground until she finds the explosive, the countdown to detonation ticking away in bright green numbers and her eyes widening as she sees the button to stop the countdown has been broken by the falling rock.

“Everyone out!  _Now!_ ” she yells, rushing them all out.  Once outside, she’s making sure everyone on the team is accounted for when a sudden realization washes over her- one person isn’t there.

“John,” she breathes, a cold bolt of fear striking through her as she turns back to the mountain.

“ _John!_ ” she yells and begins running towards the cave until two strong arms are around her middle, holding her back.

“You can’t go back, Professor,” a member of the team, Dave she thinks his name is, tells her as she struggles against him and continues to scream John’s name, her sudden fear apparent in her voice.

River knows the _only_ reason John would still be in there is if something happened to him while the bits of mountain crumbled in on them, and she is _not_ about to leave him in there to die.  Her husband would tell her that her decision to go back is _stupidly dangerous_ , but she doesn’t _care_. 

Something _inside_ her has always made her fiercely protective of John, a second nature that kicks in whenever he’s in trouble.  When she looks back on it, it scares her because she doesn’t know _why_ , but now it powers her, _drives_ her, to save him because there is no way in hell she is just going to let him go.

River slams her head back and she distinctly hears the crack of Dave’s nose breaking.  It has the desired affect and once his grip on her loosens, she’s bolting toward the cave, ignoring the dull throbbing in the back of her head.

She finds John near the back of the cave, his leg trapped under a heavy piece of rock and him struggling to push it off.  Glancing at the explosive, her hearts begin pounding faster as she reads thirty seconds left on the clock

“River,” John says in surprise as she places both hands on the rock and begins to push.

“What are you doing?  Get out of here!” John yells, his voice suddenly filled with panic.

“Shut up!” she shouts, “I can’t let you die.”

When she pushes harder, the rock finally, _blessedly_ , moves and she thinks she could cry from relief.  River helps John up and lets him lean on her as they exit the cave as quickly as possible.  They’re not out five seconds before the explosive goes off and the cave collapses in on itself.

River stares at what used to be the entrance, all the “what-if’s” running through her mind before turning to John and shoving him forcefully.

“You could have died!” she yells at him, even though she knows it’s not his fault, before pulling him into a tight hug.

When she pulls back, John brushes his thumb lightly across her cheek, wiping away a tear- _and when had she started crying?_

“Hey,” John starts softly, “Look- I’m _fine_.”  He grins lopsidedly, “Just wanted to add a little excitement.”

River rolls her eyes and represses a smile, “Don’t you _ever_ scare me like that again,” prodding him in the chest with her finger to punctuate each word.

“Yes, _mother_.”  His tone is playful, but his eyes show something else entirely, as if it _pained_ him to say that.  She disregards it because that just doesn’t make any _sense_ , and turns to the team, suggesting they all take the rest of the day off and start anew in the morning.

XxX

John frowns at the phone as it cuts to voicemail for the second time.  Huffing, he clicks it off and re-punches in the number, deciding to try just once more.

It rings for the fifth time and he’s getting ready to hang up right when she answers, “Hello John.”

“River!” he exclaims, spinning around in excitement, the cord of his phone wrapping around him.  “ _Finally_.  Didn’t think you’d _ever_ answer.”

“Sorry, dear.  I was just…busy,” she finishes lamely.

John stills, frowning at the tone of her voice, “What’s wrong?  Are you okay?  Do you want me to come over?  Cause I-” he attempts to take a step here, but is hindered by the cord of his phone wrapped around his body and falls to the floor.

Mumbling curses under his breath, he scrambles out of the tangles of cord that are _obviously_ out to get him and bounces back up, putting the phone back to his ear to hear River chuckling softly, “You really should look into get a phone _without_ a cord, dear.   _No one_ uses phones with cords anymore.”

John huffs, “Yes, well, _I_ do.  I like them.  Cords are _cool_.”

He smiles, knowing if he could see her, she’d be rolling her eyes as she answers, “You and my husband would get on well, you know,” she pauses, “Though I think that would be too much clumsiness in one room for the universe to handle.”

“Oi!” John protests, “I am _not_ clumsy,” knowing full and well that he is.

A beat.

“River…” he starts softly, “What’s wrong?  And don’t you _dare_ say ‘nothing.’  You’re rubbish at lying to me, River Song.”

There is a moment of silence before she speaks, “John I…” she stops and he can hear her take a deep breath before continuing, “It really is nothing.  I’m fine.”

John rolls his eyes, “See?  Rubbish.  I’m coming over.”

Ignoring her protests, he hangs up the phone, grabs his keys, and rushes out the door.

The moment she swings open the door, hand on her hip, he’s rushing past her and into the kitchen.  Closing the door behind him, she walks after him and leans against the doorframe, watching him rummage through her cabinets.

“What are you doing?” she asks, arching her eyebrow as he pulls down two cups.

“Making tea.  Sit down.”

After the tea is made, he places her cup in her hand and sits opposite her.

“So,” he starts, squinting his eyes slightly at her, “Tell me what’s wrong.”

River stares into her tea for a moment before looking up at him, and he’s shocked to see tears in her eyes, “John, I don’t know what to do…”

Her fingers grip tightly around her cup and she looks back down before whispering, “I’m pregnant.”

John freezes and can’t help but stare as she continues, “My husband…I…we can’t have a _baby_.  I just…I don’t _know_ what to do…”

After a moment, John reaches over and gently takes one of her hands in his.  When she looks up, he smiles softly, “I think you should tell him.”

River takes a deep breath before returning his smile and nodding in agreement.

XxX

The door squeaks in protest as it opens, jolting John from his thoughts and bringing him back to the present.  The lecture hall still has the heavy feel of loss to it that only seems to magnify within him as he looks up to see his father standing in the doorway.

John stands and slowly makes his way up the sloped aisle, hands shoved in his pockets.

“You ready?” the Doctor asks quietly, the sadness that John is feeling reflected in his father’s eyes.

John sighs heavily and looks over at the TARDIS, “I don’t want to do this…”

The Doctor pauses, “I know.  I don’t _want_ to, either.  But this isn’t for _us_.  It’s for _her._ ”

John nods and is greeted by a low, solemn hum of the TARDIS as he steps over the threshold.  Closing his eyes, John attempts to mentally prepare himself for this trip to the Library, but knows that _nothing_ is going to lessen the pain in his hearts when it comes time to give his mother a final goodbye.

XxX

Her fingers shake slightly as she pulls out her handcuffs and clasps the cold metal around the wrist of the man lying unconscious at her feet.  A tear rolls down her cheek as she locks the other cuff around a pole and she huffs angrily before wiping it away.  She should _not_ be _crying_.  She’s had _years_ to prepare herself for this day, but as she looks at the timer counting down, she can’t say that she imagined it ending quite like this.

Looking down at the lanky man dressed in a blue suit, she knows she should be nothing but grateful.  Time, as cruel as it is, seems to have sent her a blessing.  When she heard the dreadful words ‘ _Who are you_ ,’ she wasn’t looking into the face of the floppy haired man who proclaims bow ties to be _cool_ , hides all of his pain and suffering behind his seemingly childish ways and looks at her with eyes that hold so much _love_ for her- _her Doctor_.  She thinks that had she had to look into _those_ eyes and see nothing but confusion and mistrust, her _soul_ would have broken.

As an automated voice informs her, “ _Autodestruct in seven minutes_ ,” she places her diary and sonic screwdriver on the floor, pulls the plastic piece of her suit over her head and sets it on the chair she’ll soon be sitting in, grateful for the temporary relief of not having to wear it- not like her neural relay would do her much good now anyway.

The necklace that holds her wedding band rests under her suit against her bare skin, and she can’t stop the hot tears that roll slowly down her face as she pulls it out.  Pressing a kiss to the ring, she wishes for nothing more than to see her husband’s ridiculous face just one more time.

And John.

_John_.  Her hearts suddenly feel like concrete in her chest.  She had _promised_ that she would be back soon, and now she isn’t coming back at all.  A fresh wave of sadness washes over her as she realizes she won’t be able to _raise_ him- she won’t see his third birthday, or take him to school for the first time, or watch with pride as he crosses a stage to graduate.

River’s snapped from her thoughts by the whirring sound of the TARDIS suddenly echoing around the room, followed by the thud of landing, and she whirls around, her hearts suddenly beating twice as fast.

The Doctor steps out of the TARDIS, and when he sees her, a sad smile crosses his face, “Hi honey, I’m home.”

She chokes out a disbelieving noise that sounds like a cross between a laugh and a sob before retorting with her usual reply, “And what sort of time do you call this?”

The next thing she knows, she’s in his embrace, her arms locked tightly around him, and she can feel his cold tears on her neck.  He tightens his hold on her before whispering, “You save them, River.  All 4,022 of them.”

She nods and pulls back, taking the necklace from around her neck, and when she places it in his palm, he looks at her with a pained expression.

“Until death do us part, my love,” she says quietly.

“River,” he starts in protest, but she cuts him off, “Sweetie, you can’t-”

“No, you listen to me, River Song,” the Doctor says fiercely, his voice low as he puts the necklace around his own neck.

“You are my _wife_ ,” he places his finger under her chin and tilts her face up, forcing her to look at him, “And I love you.  Until the end of time.”

He kisses her then, a soft kiss that leaves her lips tingling before he continues, “And the next time I see you, because I _will_ see you again, River, _this_ you, I am going to put this ring on your finger and it will _never_ have to come off again.”

The determination in his eyes makes her want to believe him, but Rule One washes away all her hopes, so she only nods, forcing a smile before asking, “Where’s John?”

The Doctor stands to the side and when River looks over at the TARDIS, John is leaning against the doorframe.  Not her son John, but her former student, her partner, her confidant, her _friend_ , John.  For one second she’s confused as she glances at the Doctor before looking back at him.

Realization hits her like a freight train and she doesn’t know how she’s able to remain on her feet as she breathes out, “ _Oh_ ,” a fresh wave of tears obscuring her vision.

River places her hand over her mouth as she moves to stand in front of him and looks him up and down, as if looking at him for the first time.

“How did I not see it before?” she asks no one in particular, suddenly realizing where the ever-present protective nature towards him came from- her _soul_ knew.

“Hello, John,” she says quietly, lightly brushing the fringe of his hair, that is _so much_ like his father’s, out of his eyes.

“Hello, mum,” he replies, smiling slightly and then adding, “Finally learned to leave my shoes tied.” 

River laughs through her tears before commenting quietly, “You look just like him, you know.”

“No,” he says, pulling her into a hug, “I have your eyes…”

After a moment he speaks again, “You know…in a way, you _did_ get to raise me,” as if he’s able to tell what she’s thinking.

“And I love you,” he adds as her fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt and she squeezes her eyes shut, as if she can block out all the pain as she tightens the hug.

“I love you, too.  Always and forever,” quoting herself from the day she left.

The automated voice calls out, “ _Autodestruct in three minutes_ ,” and River is forced to pull away.

She can’t help but smile as the Doctor comes to stand at John’s side.  She smoothes the wrinkles in John’s shirt and presses a soft kiss to the Doctor’s cheek before standing back, “My boys…” she says fondly as another tear rolls down her cheek.

‘I love you’s,’ are exchanged for the very last time and before she knows it, the TARDIS is disappearing and they are gone forever.

River pulls the plastic bit of her suit back over her head and is settled in the chair, twisting wires together, as the countdown reaches two minutes and the Doctor handcuffed to the pole begins to stir.

XxX

It turns out that John is right about how just how quickly things at the University change after her death is confirmed, but he can’t help but think his mother would be proud at the change to the plate just outside the lecture hall:

Lecture Hall 36

Professor Johnathan Song

Archaeology

The passion for teaching runs through his bones and settles in his very soul, and soon the stage at the front of the lecture hall becomes his second home.  He puts every inch of his being into how he teaches, and is rewarded with the same enthusiasm to learn from the students that his mother received.

Today, he takes a break from lecture and tells the legend of the professor before him and of the sacrifice she made to save 4,022 people.  As he begins, a hush falls over the room and he can’t help but feel that she is there with him- just like she said she would be.

_Always._  

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue? Yes or no?

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading.
> 
> Feedback is always welcome :)


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